


The Virgining

by FeyduBois



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Case Fic, Gen, Magical Accidents, Sick Dean Winchester, Supernatural Summergen Fic Exchange 2014, Unicorn Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 09:52:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2688419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeyduBois/pseuds/FeyduBois
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was supposed to be right there. Sam, transformed as he was into a sparkling white freaking unicorn, was supposed to be in the field at sundown. This was their arrangement: Dean would work on the insanity that was this case while Sam waited in the woods doing unicorny-sh** and evading unicorn-hunters, and then meet Dean at dusk, right now, right here... only, where was he?<br/>“Son of a b****,” Dean muttered, “I never should have left him...”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Virgining

**Author's Note:**

> Surprising what can be done with a crack!prompt and sibling parallel. The only warnings are for show-level violence and swearing... I'm looking at you Dean.

_He was supposed to be right there. Sam, transformed as he was into a sparkling white freaking unicorn, was supposed to be in the field at sundown. This was their arrangement: Dean would work on the insanity that was this case while Sam waited in the woods doing unicorny-shit and evading unicorn-hunters, and then meet Dean at dusk, right now, right here... only, where was he?_

_Dean stood at the edge of the meadow, the last tinges of the sunset painting the edges of the sky purple and indigo, the first stars glimmering above the treeline to the east, but Sam was nowhere to be found, and even with the darkness closing in, it was hard to loose the giant glowing horned horse that was his brother._

“ _Son of a bitch,” Dean muttered, “I never should have left him...”_

 

\- - -

  
  


“Emma,” Nurse Ryerson knelt next to the girl sitting on the bench, holding her umbrella over them to sluice the heavy rain away. The girl was fifteen and she was crying, Ryerson could tell even though her cheeks were already wet from the rain. This wasn't pretty movie-crying, this was messy red-and-puffy-eyed, runny-nosed, choking crying; these were the tears of raw sorrow. Grief and anger came off the girl in waves, but this was the pain she was trained to ease, this was her job. She put her hand on the girl's and squeezed it lightly, “Em, listen, I'm here for you. We all are.”

“She's dying, isn't she?”

“I'm sorry, but right now things don't look good for Ashley. The doctors are still trying but she isn't responding to the medicine so we have to start to think about saying goodbye.”

“It's not fair. She's too young, she's younger than me. Why couldn't it be me that's dying?”

“Oh Em, your mom said the same thing... it's just one of those things, there's nothing that can be done.”

“You're wrong,” Emma looked up at nurse Ryerson, a hardness in her red-rimmed eyes which was not there before, “There is something that can be done.”

“I don't understand, what do you...” Ryerson began to speak, but then Emma was stabbing something into her, the hilt looked like a dagger, but instead of a blade sticking out of her middle there was a coiled tusk of some kind. “Aah! Why... what... ?” the pain was blinding and Ryerson felt her world fading to black.

“I can do this,” Emma said, “And I'm sorry since it hurts you but it needs to be done, it's just one of those things.”

\- - -

  
  


“So, you think this is our kind of spooky?” Dean asked between mouthfuls of burger.

“Not sure.” Sam, behind his laptop, was scrolling through the report, “This guy disappears a month ago and is found in a field, naked and unharmed, but dead... it _could_ be our kind of thing.”

“Nothing at all wrong with him?”

“Nope, according to the coroner he was healthy as a horse and just dropped dead... and now there's someone from the same neighbourhood missing, a woman.”

“We're on the west coast anyway, this is in Washington?”

“Yeah, seaside town near Seattle.”

“Why not, let's hit it up.”

A short drive found them in Seattle, and then Port Angeles, a stones-throw from Olympus national park. Sam gazed out the car window.

“Man,” said Dean, “we're so far north we're almost in Canada.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. The coastal forest of ancient red cedars and Douglas firs hung with lichens and shining with moisture was close in around them, suffocatingly Gothic. It started to rain again, as apparently it did most of November in this part of the country, and it seemed like maybe the Impala needed new windshield wipers because they could barely keep up and they left streaks of moisture behind. They checked into a motel at 5pm, hauling duffel bags inside and shaking frozen rainwater off themselves like dogs.

“Police station?” asked Dean, using a bleach-scented hand towel to dry his hair.

“It's not too late?”

“Naw, even if we don't get to talk to anyone we can probably wave around some badges and get the files scrounged up.”

Changed into suits and armed with their FBI badges Sam and Dean drove down to the police station. They held out the magic cards and the secretary at the front desk waved them on in, “Chief Wong is working late, he's in the office at the end of the hall.”

“Thank you ma'am,” said Sam.

They knocked on his door, and a voice from within said, “Sandra, I don't care who is on the phone, tell my soon-to-be-ex wife that no, I'm probably not coming home tonight, and it's none of her business where–”

“Um, chief?” ventured Sam.

“Oh! Come in.”

Sam and Dean readied their badges, “Agents Plant and Bonham, we're here to assist with your missing persons.”

Wong stood up to shake hands politely. “Sorry about that outburst... I'm sort of in the middle of a messy divorce. I have reasons for staying late,” Wong said. He looked tired, like he'd been working all night, but alert enough still, possibly thanks to the empty coffee cups littering his desk. “I didn't realize the bureau would be interested in this little thing.”

“There are similarities in Jim Dursley's autopsy to another open file so we thought we'd look into it,” said Sam by way of explanation.

“There was _nothing_ in Jim Dursley's autopsy file,” said Wong, “That's what's weird about this.”

“Yeah, well, we were wondering if we could get a copy of the original,” said Sam, “And the name of the coroner so we can interview them, and apparently there's another missing person as of last night that could be related? Could we get everything you've got on them too?”

“You're almost as bossy as my soon-to-be-ex,” Wong chuckled, “But okay. Her name's Hannah Ryerson, not much on her... upstanding citizen, nurse at the hospital, specializes in hospice care.”

“Hospice?” Dean asks, that was one of those words that set off ghostly warning bells for them.

“Yeah. I'll get you a copy of her file...” he gathered up the folders on his desk and popped his head out, “Sandra? Can I get copies of these please? Thank you, you're a dear.”

Armed with the files they returned to the hotel room, snagging some takeout, a six pack, and the local paper on the way. Sam busted into the chicken chow-mien and the original autopsy of Jim Dursley while Dean pursued the local paper over sweet n' sour pork and a cheap IPA.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean said, “Check this out: Unicorn spotted in national park, the sixth unicorn spotting in the past month. I _knew_ this was our kind of place.”

Sam scoffed, “Unicorn? Did you grab the Enquirer by mistake?”

Dean glanced at the front, “Nope, it's the Peninsula Daily.”

“Huh. Gimmie that,” Sam reached for the paper and began reading it, meanwhile Dean stole the chow-mien. The paper outlined the unicorn sightings at Olympus national park. Only, the first unicorn seen had been black, and the more recent one was light brown and smaller, probably a female, speculated as the mate of the first.

“I think I know what kind of lore we're going to be researching next,” Dean said.

“How about I research while you go down to the local watering hole and ply the locals for some word-of-mouth? The newspaper office probably won't be open to talk to anyone directly involved, but this isn't a huge community.”

Dean yawned, “Actually, I might call it an early night.”

“Seriously?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, I'm beat. Try to keep down the clackity-clacks, geek-boy.”

“Sure.”

\- - -

  
  


Dean, however, did not get a full night's rest before his phone rang out to the tune of Metallica's “Enter Sandman” at 3am. Sam answered it, “Yeah?”

“Agent Bonham?” It was police chief Wong.

“It's Plant. Chief, what's going on?”

“We've found Hannah Ryerson.”

“Oh, that's great... right?”

“Well, would be if she were alive. Can you and your partner come out to Olympus?”

“The park? Sure, we'll be right there.”

“A ranger will be waiting for you near the entrance. See you in a few.”

“Dean, wake up.” Sam prodded him, “Case is on.”

“Ugh,” Dean groaned, “Wha times'it?”

“Too early, get up.”

They made their way over, the frigid rain pounding down on the roof of the Impala. That was the thing about the west coast, it wasn't nearly as cold as out east, but the damp sank right in to your bones and made it nearly impossible to feel truly warm.

Dean was shivering, and an unexpected coughing fit tore from his chest as they were pulling into the park.

“You okay?”

“I'm fine.”

Sam didn't have time to further nag Dean as the ranger walked up to their car, fat rain drops dripping from her oiled safari cap. Dean rolled down the window and the ranger asked, “You the feds?”

“Yep.”

“Park over there and get in my Jeep, the road's a bit rough so I'll drive you out to the scene.”

Dean pulled in behind the ranger's Jeep and he and Sam got out of their vehicle and into hers, Dean not protesting when Sam rode shotgun because otherwise he'd just hear bitching later about knees and because he was still bone-tired. Instead he allowed Sam to interview the ranger in his polite, indirect way. For this part of a case it was always better to have Sam along, Dean could get by with his rough charm and bluff alone, but Sam had a way of making people talk, and his college-educated jargon added an air of professionalism that Dean couldn't always fake.

“So there was a witness?

“Yeah, high-school kid, Bernard, I've caught him a few times in the park deer-slapping, but tonight he was out trying to snap a picture of a unicorn,” she rolled her eyes good-naturally.

“Deer-slapping?”

“It's something the local kids do for fun, similar to cow-tipping. They take a carrot or something and try to get a deer to eat out of their hands and once it's close enough they slap it in the face.”

Dean chuckled, “Kids these days, hey?”

“It's mean, but when we catch them doing it there isn't much we can do besides remove them from the park.”

“So what did he see?”

“Bernard said he spotted the brown unicorn on the ground, alive but apparently tranquilized, and there was someone crouched over the unicorn with a saw cutting the horn off. He got close and the person took off, and then he called me on his cell, totally freaked out. When I got there though there wasn't a unicorn, it was Hannah Ryerson. She had no pulse but she was still warm. Chief Wong's got him in custody.”

“Did he get any pictures?”

“Of the unicorn or of the suspect?”

“Either.”

“He didn't say,” the ranger gave him a weird, sideways glance, “You'll have to ask yourself.”

They went quiet for a bit as the ranger turned off the main road onto a dirt one, well, more mud than dirt, but she seemed to know how to handle the four-wheel-drive and the crime scene was apparently a decent way into the bush. Dean quietly snuffled and bounced in the backseat.

Sam was about to ask if he was feeling okay, and probably get a crabby “I'm not sick Sammy!” comeback when suddenly something darted across the road, barely visible where the high-beams cut the misty rain.

“Did you see that?” he asked, unnecessarily as the ranger braked hard.

“I did. It looked like a person.”

There was little traction in the mud but they came to a full stop just past where the figure had darted into the woods. Sam and Dean jumped out of the jeep quickly, Dean taking a moment to say to the ranger, “Can you radio Wong and let him know what's going on? This might be our suspect, we're going to pursue.”

“There aren't any campers checked in this time of year so it's either your suspect or a Sasquatch. ”

A national park with unicorns _and_ Sasquatches? This was totally their kind of place.

“Thanks,” Dean nodded, breaking into a run after Sam who was in pursuit, having caught a glimpse of a flashlight bobbing in the distance. It was hard going through the muddy forest, the piles of rotting leaves were unexpectedly deep and his lungs didn't want to cooperate in the cold, wet air.

“Dean!” Sam had apparently caught up to their suspect.

Dean drove himself into a hard run. Branches whipped him in the face but he persisted towards the voice, watching the flashlight beam dance across the trees and trying to follow it to its source. At last he saw them, struggling against some bare-branched alders.

The girl was young, no more than seventeen, but she must have been strong because Sam was having trouble holding onto her. She stomped his foot, right on the top where it met his ankle, a vulnerable spot, and Sam momentarily loosened his grip just enough for her to turn around and stab him with what looked like a dagger, glinting silver in the dark. Sam clutched his thigh and the girl slipped away and ran deeper into the woods.

Dean ran after her, following her for as long as he could, but he lost her pretty quick in the dark, wet forest. Coughing harshly, he returned to Sam who was holding a torn sleeve against his thigh to stem the bleeding, “Are you okay?”

“I should be asking you that.”

“Just the cold air...” Dean gasped, hunching over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, “You got stabbed.”

“Tis but a flesh wound,” Sam joked.

Back at the Jeep they allowed the ranger, Josie Roan, to bandage up Sam's leg enough that he felt comfortable continuing to the crime scene where Chief Wong was waiting with Bernard under a big cedar tree.

  
  


\- - -

  
  


“We lost her in the brush,” Dean explained, “Looked like a teenaged girl, maybe you recognized her from school?”

“No,” Bernard shook his head. He was nerdy-looking in thick glasses, gangly in that way that teenagers sometimes were before they filled in, “It was dark, I didn't get a good look, but it could be... they weren't big.”

“Did you get any pictures?” asked Sam.

“Not of the person, I got some of the unicorn.”

“We'll need your memory card. You can have it back after the investigation.”

“But I need...”

“This is a federal investigation,” Dean said firmly, “your memory card is evidence.”

“I didn't do anything to the woman,” he opened the camera and handed Sam the card.

“Did you know her?” asked Wong.

“Only from the missing person posters.”

“That's all we need I think... the chief has your contact info in case we need to question you more?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Maybe Ranger Josie will be nice and take you home.”

Wong took them back to the Impala in a second Jeep. Dean was shivering incessantly and even Sam felt chilled. “Want me to drive?” Sam offered.

“No, you've been stabbed. I, on the other hand, am perfectly fine. Don't want you to faint at the wheel.”

“I've had way worse and you know it. This doesn't even merit a hospital visit. You can take a look yourself when we get back.”

“I will.”

They picked up coffee on the way back in to warm themselves up and when they got back Sam took a shower to wash his leg and Dean examined it, eventually deciding that actually, yeah, it wasn't that serious, and that so long as they kept it clean it wasn't going to be a problem. It looked like a knife or dagger wound, but round and unusually ragged with some bruising around it, and while punctures could be bad for infections, it wasn't especially deep. Dean showered after, he didn't need one exactly but he was chilled straight through and the hot water had great pressure and twenty minutes under the heavy stream warmed him up enough that he fell immediately asleep despite the increasing congestion and discomfort in his chest.

  
  


\- - -

  
  


Dean woke up now certain he was probably sick and deciding that he was willing to admit it. “Sam...” he groaned and turned over. He got a neigh in response.

“What the hell?” Dean shot up and looked over to Sam's bed. There, sitting where where his brother was supposed to be, was a giant white horse with a coiled horn on its head. The big, dark eyes were fearful and clearly the creature had no idea any more than Dean what was going on.

“Sammy?” Dean tried cautiously, standing to examine the unicorn in full.

 _Dean_ , Sam tried to say, but it came out as a whiny. He tossed his head and snorted, and then tried to stand, having some trouble getting off the bed and then promptly face-planting. He managed to untangle his gigantic legs and somehow figured out how to use them, walking like a newborn colt towards the bathroom. He pushed the door in with his nose and examined himself in the mirror, neighing fearfully.

“Shit, Sam,” Dean approached, carefully watching the equine's behaviour, “I think you finally metamorphosed into your final form... apparently you're a unicorn.”

 _Ya think?_ Sam said, snorting.

Dean couldn't help it. It bubbled up from inside his chest uncontrollably, making its way out of his mouth; he began to giggle a little, and then launched into a full scale belly-laugh.

Sam stomped his food indignantly.

“Sorry Sammy, couldn't help it... it's just... I didn't know a horse could make a bitch-face.”

_Yeah, yeah, real funny,_ Sam stomped again.

Dean's laughs broke into coughs and he bent over. Sam approached, concern filling the dark eyes.

“I'm fine,” Dean said, “Well, better than you. We're going to have to figure this out. Do you suppose it was the dagger?”

Sam nodded.

“So you can understand me still, but can you speak?”

_You can't seem to hear me,_ Sam said, but actually whinnied.

“Guess not,” Dean sighed. “Okay, I'm going to go out and get some coffee and breakfast, what do you eat now? Hay? Oats maybe?”

Sam gave him another bitch-face.

Dean left, chuckling, and returned twenty minutes later with a breakfast sandwich and coffee for himself and a couple of oatmeal muffins for Sam who ate them eagerly.

“I'm not sure how long we'll be able to keep you hidden in here,” Dean said, “You'll have to try to stay quiet, okay? I'll put out the do-not-disturb sign.”

Dean did so and then went back to research, spreading the files across the bed and searching for any sort of pattern to emerge. Sam tried to help, he looked over Dean's shoulder, but he couldn't put much together, his vision wasn't right for it, and Dean kept moving the papers too quickly. Eventually he snorted in frustration.

“Yeah, I agree, I may need to do some leg-work, maybe check out the homes and workplaces of the vics.”

Sam nodded and made as if to follow Dean out the door.

“Hey, hold on, you think you're going to come along on an investigation like this? Seriously?”

Sam shook his head and sighed, returning to his bed and jumping on top. That was the last straw for that particular piece of cheap motel furniture; certainly, that bed had seen a lot of abuse, but it wasn't meant for large horses and the entire frame collapsed under him. Sam whinnied in shock and then realized he was okay and, after circling twice like a dog, laid down.

Dean left with barely concealed peals of laughter in his wake.

\- - -

  
  


Dean went to the coroner first. She was a thirty-ish woman with a nice figure and he flirted her up, plying her for information, anything that might seem unusual, anything at all...

“That's the thing agent Bonham, there's nothing,” she said, “So far as I can tell these people died for no reason. Their hearts are fine, I'm waiting on toxicology but there's nothing of note except some sedative in Dursley's, but he was taking a number of other psychiatric medications so it might have been an over-the-counter sleeping pill.”

“Was he... uh... you know,” Dean gestured to his head, the international signal for:

“Crazy? Not really, he was severely depressed.”

“Ah,” Dean coughed.

“He and Ryerson... it's like they just had the life force sucked right out of them.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah.”

“So, can I get your number.”

“For the case?”

“For coffee maybe, or something stronger?” Dean tried his most charming smile on her.

“No, thank you, agent.”

\- - -

  
  


Next Dean checked the homes of the victims, and then Jim Dursley's workplace, the office of a lumberyard, but he found nothing there. Then he went to the hospital, flashing his badge and asking about Nurse Ryerson.

“No, there's been nothing unusual about her lately,” said Mindy, the head nurse, “She was working in the ICU mostly, a bit in psychiatrics and geriatrics.”

“Did she know Jim Dursley at all? Was he ever admitted here?”

“The other missing person? No.”

“Mind if I look around a bit?”

“Sure, but you need to wear a mask,” Mindy held it up, giving him a firm look; she had a matronly look about her, despite that she couldn't be more than thirty, with a big bosom and fuller figure than Dean was usually into. Still, she had pretty blue-green eyes... narrowed right at him.

“But I'm not –”

“It's our policy for all ICU visitors.”

“Fine, fine...” Dean grudgingly put on the blue paper mask and began looking around. Nothing seemed strange, there were people in rooms hooked up to machines. It was a bit sad, the coloured paper Thanksgiving decorations doing little to combat the general air of gloom, the puke-coloured walls, the stink of cleaning products and disease.

He paused over one particular patient, a little girl, bald and deathly pale, maybe seven years old, fast asleep. On her bedside table were cards and balloons with pictures of unicorns, white, pink, purple, and yellow unicorns and pony figurines, basically a miniature shrine to Lisa Frank, and snuggled up against the girl is a purple unicorn and a _My Little Pony_ comic book. Normally this wouldn't set off any bells, but given the particulars of this case and what his brother was at the moment, Dean couldn't just pass this by.

The girl was asleep, but he found her medical file in the folder at the foot of the bed and began to leaf through it. Her name was Ashley O'Laney and she had late-stage leukaemia but was not responding to chemotherapy. Nurse Ryerson was indeed assigned as her head caregiver, along with a Dr Steward.

Dean heard something in the doorway, a gasp, and he looked over to see a teenaged girl with auburn hair and freckles and wide, green eyes. She dropped what she was holding and bolted down the hall. Dean wasn't sure, but her size and the way she ran made him think of the woods last night.

“Hey, wait!” he called, breaking after her in a run down the sterile hallways, through the chapel, and then outside into the garden. Dean couldn't seem to keep up and ended up hacking his lungs out, leaning against a bus stop.

“Should quit smoking,” remarked an older guy waiting for his bus.

“I don't smoke,” Dean coughed.

“Could have fooled me.”

“Fuck off,” Dean growled, uncharacteristically crabby... seriously, how did this sixteen year old girl keep giving him the slip?

He returned to the ICU, picking up the item the girl dropped: it's the latest issue of the _My Little Pony_ comic series.

Mindy came by, “What was Emma running from?”

“Emma?”

“Yeah, Ashley's sister, poor dear.”

“Can I get their address? Maybe their parents' contact info?”

“Of course. I doubt Ms. O'Laney will be home though.”

“No?”

“She's been working a lot, single mom. They don't have medical insurance and chemo isn't cheap. Emma has been here a lot... she rides her bike here after school and then stays until her mom picks her up, usually around eight or nine.”

“I see, could I get an address for her workplace?”

“Sure, she's usually at this legal office,” Mindy begins copying down the addresses from Ashley's file, “But she might also be at the court house, and if it's in session you probably won't be allowed in, she's working on some sort of closed trial thing.”

“Thank you Mindy,” his voice was rough and thick.

“Are you okay agent?”

“Just a cold,” he shrugged, trying to exude the trademark Dean Winchester Charm, “But if you want to examine me I wouldn't say no.”

Mindy grinned and scrawled a phone number on another page which she handed to Dean, winking at him, “I'm off Thursday night.” One for two wasn't bad, and coroners were sometimes creepy to sleep with, however he could go for a sexy nurse right now.

  
  


\- - -

  
  


Dean went to the house first, noting that it was just down the street from Jim Dursley's, and found no one home. He briefly considered breaking in, but without Sam to watch the driveway it was a bit much risk for something that wasn't totally needed. The dagger could be inside, but more likely Emma kept it on her. It was still pretty early so he returned to the motel, picking up a couple of apples for Sam on the way. When he arrived Sam was eager to leave, straining out the door.

“Whoa, whoa, hold it horsie,” Dean said, trying to hold back the unicorn, “Where do you think you're going.”

 _I need to piss,_ Sam snorted, as if Dean should understand what he meant.

“Right, that's not going to work...” Dean sighed and glanced around the parking lot outside, “I think the coast is clear, why do you want out so bad?”

Sam didn't answer, he galloped out to the edge of the parking lot where several trees and a strip of grass divided the lot from the next one over, a parts yard of some kind, and went still, looking at his brother expectantly. Dean followed slowly and stared at Sam who just stood there.

_Dude, turn around at least,_ Sam stomped his foot.

“What?”

Sam rolled his eyes and gave up, instead letting loose a stream of urine.

“Oh, right!” Dean turned around, “I didn't even think of that. Hah, it's like having a pet. I wonder if I could ride you.”

Sam whinnied indignantly.

“Yeah, you're right, that would be weird.”

Once Sam finished with necessities he began grazing on the surrounding grass and Dean pulled the apples out of the car and fed them to Sam who took them gently out of his hands, his soft, velvety nose nudging Dean's hand. Slowly Dean reached up and placed a hand on the side of Sam's face, feeling the strong, equine jaw and the warm breath. Sam looked at him sharply from the one eye, not drawing away but clearly not comfortable with the contact.

“Sorry,” Dean pulled away, “just... haven't seen many horses. You're a nice looking beast, must be what, eighteen or nineteen hands?”

_How on earth would you know?_ Sam looked at him doubtfully.

“Hey, I've been riding a couple of times.”

_Yeah, like twice, and once was a donkey._

“The horn is different though,” Dean wisely refrained from touching it.

“Omigod is that a unicorn?!” shrieked a feminine voice. Dean turned around to see a maid standing at the open door to their room, her armload of linens on the ground where rain was once again starting to pelt down.

“Um, no, no, sorry. He's just a horse, the horn is fake.”

“Oh... I... you can't keep horses in your room. It isn't a pet room and I don't think horses are allowed anyway.”

Dean was about to make some crack about Sam being totally housebroken but instead said, “Yeah, sorry, someone sprung him on me, I'm going to find a place for him right now, see.”

“Okay, you'd better. I don't want to have to clean up after.”

“Yes, of course,” Dean reassured her, “we're checking out right now, in fact. There won't be any mess at all, I swear.”

Dean went back into the room, Sam following with his head held high, and they shut the door.

“Shit,” Dean swore, “we gotta find somewhere else to stay.

Dean began packing up their bags, not that there was much spread around, and as he did so he updated Sam, somewhat certain the unicorn could understand what he was saying, “So I spoke with the coroner and the head nurse at the hospital... the girl who stabbed you, well, it was a girl right? About sixteen?”

Sam snorted.

“Uh... how about stamp once for yes, twice for no.”

 _Okay._ Sam stomped and nodded, his horn waving dangerously near Dean's head.

“Was the one who stabbed you a sixteen year old girl?”

One stomp.

“Reddish hair? Freckles? Probably Irish descent.”

 _Hard to say on the hair, but I think so,_ Sam stomped once again.

“Okay, I'm thinking our suspect is one Emma O'Laney. Her little sister Ashley is in the ICU with cancer and she's, uh, probably terminal. Ashley is a bit of a unicorn fan, and by a bit I mean big time.”

Dean began to cough and got himself a glass of water to stem the fit, chugging it down like a frat boy chugs beer on a Friday night.

Sam looked at him pointedly.

“What? I'm fine man. How about this: we can stay in the park, do you remember that picnic gazebo right near the first parking lot when you come in?”

A stomp.

“Okay. I know it's not the best spot with a unicorn-hunter running around, but you know to stay out of sight, unlike the vics who were probably trying to find someone they knew. Meet me in the gazebo at dusk. I'm going to go see if I can track down Emma, or at least her mom, try to figure out what exactly is going on here. I'd ask you to search for some lore, but hooves probably won't work on your keyboard so that's a no-go.”

_No kidding,_ Sam rolled his eyes.

“I'll get Bobby to handle the lore bit, just let me...” Dean dug out his phone and held it out, taking a photo of Sam who adopted a long-suffering bitch-face, “What? Bobby will never believe me unless I get a picture of you like this, he'll think it's some sort of prank.”

Sam tossed his head, offended.

“Listen, I'm reluctant to let you go there on your own, but it's starting to rain again and there's plenty of tree cover through town, you can probably go unnoticed if you stay off the roads. It would only be more suspicious if I went with you, and you can probably get there faster on four legs. I'd ask you to call me when you pull in, but no opposable thumbs so... I'll see you there?”

Sam nodded and stamped his hoof once.

  
  


\- - -

  
  


Dean checked out of the motel and drove back to the hospital and parked there, huddling in his jacket against the once again heavy rain as he walked back to the ICU. At least this would give Sam some cover, the rain killed visibility. His head was pounding and he was freezing, but this was important, his brother was a mystical creature and it had to do with the case, someone was turning people into unicorns and hunting them, maybe even that girl.

Emma wasn't at the hospital, but Ms. O'Laney was, keeping vigil at her youngest's bedside. He introduced himself and asked after Emma.

“Any idea where she might me Ms. O'Laney?”

She shook her head. Ms. O'Laney looked downright haggard, her face drawn and pale, “Is my girl in trouble?”

“I'm just looking for clues about nurse Ryerson.”

“Let's go into the hallway,” O'Laney nodded subtly to Ashley, and led Dean into the hall where they pulled down their masks and spoke freely without young ears, “Sad news about that, I liked her, she had taken special interest in helping Emma.”

“Has Emma been acting strange lately?”

“Agent, her little sister is terminally ill, of course she's going to act out. She's been moody – moodier than usual.”

“Any new interests? New friends? Strange purchases?” Dean sneezed.

“Bless you. She used my credit card for an Ebay purchase, I just got the bill, it's way over her allowance.”

“Does it say what she bought?”

“I've got the invoice printed right here, I was going to go ask her about it today... I thought maybe it was a gift for Ash.”

O'Laney took out a piece of paper, an Ebay invoice for what was called a 'genuine black unicorn horn dagger'.

“I'm not sure why she would want a weapon, that's the strange part, but Ash loves unicorns.”

“Can I keep this?” Dean asked.

“Sure, it's not like Emma is here for me to ask her about it... you don't really think she has anything to do with this, do you?”

“Of course not,” Dean lied, “We just have to investigate all possibilities.”

“She usually would be here,” said O'Laney, “I guess she knew the bill was arriving today.”

“Is Emma a problem child?”

“No, no, she's just... do you have any daughters agent? Little sisters?”

Dean shook his head, “Just a younger brother.”

“Well, you won't get this then, but she's just a teenage girl. The world is confusing when you're that age, and it's worse when the one you probably love the most is lying in _that_ room,” she gestured to the ICU.

“I'm sorry,” Dean said. And oh gods, he could relate.

O'Laney deflated and shrugged, “Nothing to be done.”

“Can I speak with Ashley alone? I want to ask her about Emma and Ryerson.”

“She's not supposed to be stressed, we're telling her that nurse Ryserson had to leave for a family emergency so go ahead if you have to, just... don't upset her.”

“Of course not.”

Dean went in, pulling up the mask and sitting at the chair next to Ashley, “Hello Ashley. My name is Agent Bonham.”

“Hi,” she said, putting down the comic she was reading.

“So, you like unicorns?”

“All ponies, yep. I love riding. Only done it a couple of times though.”

“I've only been a few times myself but I also enjoy it. Western movies are my favourite.”

“Nurse Ryerson is missing, isn't she?”

“What?”

“She didn't leave for a family emergency, she's missing.”

“You're sharp, kiddo. You're not supposed to know that... let's keep it a secret, but yes, she is, and I'm trying to find her. I want to talk to Emma, do you know where she is?”

“No idea.”

“Can you think of anywhere she likes to hang out?”

“She rides her bike to Olympus a lot. It's not far from our house.”

“Has your sister been acting weird lately?”

“My sister always acts weird,” Ashley said, quite seriously, “But she isn't stupid except she said she's going to cure me and we all know that's not possible.”

“So you think she's up to something?”

“I know she is, but I don't know what.”

“I'm going to try to figure it out, don't worry.”

“Who said I was worried?” said Ashley.

“Atta' girl,” Dean said, patting her on the hand, “Thanks.”

Man, this kid was... what was the word for it... _precocious_. She reminded him of Sam at that age, convinced they knew everything about how the world and the people in it worked. He was sad she was... well, they saved people from weird stuff, not those mundane things that crept into ordinary lives and slowly sucked away vitality more surely than any vampire.

  
  


\- - -

  
  


“Sammy?” Dean called, relieved when the majestic white equine came trotting out of the woods to see him. He nudged Dean's jacket, sniffling loudly, and Dean rolled his eyes and pulled an apple out of his pocket.

“You really like those now, hey?”

The unicorn munched contently. Dean sat on the bench inside of the gazebo, easing out his aching body, coughing and rubbing his sore chest. He felt light-headed, both hot and cold, and he suspected that he was developing a fever.

“So I spoke with the suspect's mother, apparently Emma bought a black unicorn horn dagger from Ebay. I spoke with Bobby, did a bit of research of my own, and I think that was probably what she stabbed you with.”

_Well, no shit Sherlock,_ Sam rolled his eyes and snorted.

“The Ebay ad has some weird fake-spell poem thing about mystifying the mundane and whatnot, it seems to suggest that this lasts for one lunar cycle though, so the good news is you'll probably only spend a month with hooves. The question is, though, why? The lore all says that unicorns can heal and suggests ground unicorn horn as a cancer treatment. I'm not sure why she doesn't just grind up the dagger... maybe she needs more than one horn can offer? It explains the stiffs, apparently a unicorn's life-force lives in its horn so sawing it off probably wouldn't be good for them.”

Dean knew he was talking to Sam, and Sam looked at him with large, dark eyes that seemed to comprehend, but somehow it felt like he was filling the damp forest air with awkward rambling, like a person talking to their pet.

“I told the ranger we want to stay in the park, in case the perp comes back, and she said there's a cabin we can stay in, we came by it on the way in the first time, did you see it?”

Sam stomped once.

“Good, I don't really want to leave you alone in the woods.”

They got the cabin a little while later, Sam racing the Impala there. Dean drove slow, aware that it was getting dark and the rain impeded his vision and that there was wildlife – and a unicorn – on the road. Dean got out and followed to where Sam was looking at the entrance.

“Well, damn, that's not gonna work...” the entrance was up some steps, not a small porch, but an actual staircase into a little mudroom with a narrow doorway that Sam would have had to duck through if he wasn't a giant horse... right now he definitely would not fit.

Sam trotted under the porch, where firewood was tucked up in neat piles, ducking his head, and settled down into a resting position.

“Well, that works,” Dean said, joining Sam under the porch.

Sam nudged him with his nose and looked pointedly at the stairs, _You should go inside, sleep there._

“What?”

Sam shook his head and continued nudging Dean, forcing him to get up and walk towards the stairs. Dean paused part way up, “You'll be okay out here overnight?”

Sam snorted and nodded.

“I'm going to get you a blanket but fine, I'll stay inside. Just... neigh or something if there's a unicorn-hunter.”

By morning Dean was pretty sure he was dealing with worse than a little cold. He slept in until nearly three and then, wrapped up in a flannel blanket but shivering badly, he went out under the porch to check on Sam.

Sam was up, grazing under some trees on the spindly vegetation, inhaling the sweet after-rain petrichor, but he trotted over immediately when he saw Dean emerge, prodding him with concern.

“Yeah, yeah... I brought you something,” Dean said, holding out another apple.

 _That's not what I_ _want,_ Sam snorted, _you look awful._

“Not good enough for you?” he coughed, “There were some sugar cubes in the cabin, or oats if you want something more filling?”

Sam shook his head and stomped his foot twice, frustrated at being unable to express his concern.

Dean seemed to get what was being expressed, “Fine, I'll admit it. I feel like shit. It'll get better though, I just wish I could keep investigating... no one's letting me near an ICU like this, that head nurse was a real stickler. Heh, I got her number, maybe I should call her to come over... what was her name... Mandy? Milly? Mindy, that was it. Too bad I got a cock-blocking unicorn for a brother.” Dean thought hard for a moment, finding it difficult with the warm, stuffy feeling in his head, “Too bad ground unicorn horn doesn't seem to work, or at least they haven't been working for Ashley.”

 _The unicorn needs to be alive for it to work,_ Sam said, not sure how he knew this; Dean couldn't hear him though.

“That would be so much easier than waiting this out...” Dean mused, sitting on a wood chopping stump and coughing.

Sam gave up trying to communicate, clearly he spoke a language Dean didn't, and instead decided to show him; he approached, head held low to avoid the porch ceiling, and pressed the tip of his horn to Dean's chest.

“Sammy, what're you doing?”

The horn began to glow, an ethereal white light emanating from the end and rising up the shaft. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Dean felt a comfortable warmth filling him, a warmth which was gone too soon when Sam pulled away, _Did that work?_

“Wow, Sammy, I feel way better. What did you do?”

_I'm a unicorn, it's what I do._

“Did I just hear you?”

_Hi, I'm Sam Winchester, a hunter temporarily transformed into a mystical glowing horse by a magic dagger and I just cured your pneumonia._

“Sammy!” Dean tossed off the blanket and threw his arms around the unicorn, “It must be an aftereffect or something. Didn't have pneumonia though...”

_It was in the early stages but yes, you did._

For Dean it sounded as if Sam's voice was in his head while he was looking at the unicorn. He thought hard, “This could help us... could help everyone. Emma wants her sister to be cured, we want that weirdo dagger so that we can turn you back... it'll probably only last a month, but if we can get our paws on it maybe we can find a way to reverse the spell sooner. Plus then she'll stop transforming and killing people.”

_Where are you going?_ Sam asked.

“Do you think you can do it? Cure Ashley?”

_I can try._

“Good enough. I'm going to go into town, see if I can track down Emma. You stay here, the meadow just past the cabin. It might take me a bit to track her down so how about you meet me there at sundown.”

_Sounds good. Be careful._

“You too. Stay out of sight until you see me.”

  
  


\- - -

  
  


Dean drove into town and headed to the hospital. He pulled into the parking lot but rather than going through the main entrance he made his way around the outside, to the tip of an L-shaped wing where the knew the ICU bordered on a chapel which opened into a garden.

From the garden he went inside, but no one was visiting Ashley, she said that her mom and sister had gone out for a drive, which probably mean that Emma was in trouble.

Dean nodded, “Thank you.”

He gave Mindy his number and asked that she call him if they came back, but for now he would wait at the house for their return. He found a drive-thru and got some dinner to eat while he staked out the place, watching for Ms. O'Laney's red Mazda to pull in. It did, a little before dusk, but only O'Laney exited, hauling bags of groceries into the house.

“I need to talk to your daughter,” Dean said, without any preamble.

“Sorry agent, she's out somewhere. She left her bike at the hospital and she said she needed to be dropped off there to ride it home, but we had an argument on the way there and she rode off. I'm not sure where she is, but she always comes back. Ryerson said it's normal and natural for a sensitive girl like Emma to need plenty of alone time right now to work through her emotions.”

“Does she have a cell phone?”

“No, she broke her last one in a tantrum and she isn't getting a new one for a bit. Can I ask what you need her for?”

“It's probably nothing... but... can you call me when she gets home?” Dean pressed agent Neil Bonham's card into Ms. O'Laney's hands and rushed off as quickly as possible back to Olympus national park, mentally swearing the whole way.

  
  


\- - -

  
  


Dean was there, in the meadow just past the cabin, but where was Sam? He stood for a bit, looking, waiting for a glimpse of white in the trees.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, “Never should have left him.”

Something caught Dean's eye: big hoof prints in the fresh mud, and bootprints of about the right size for a sixteen year old girl. Dean broke into a run, checking that his 9mil was in his pocket as he went. He arrived to a scene out of a medieval romance, minus the skinny jeans and pink hoodie; Emma was sitting on a log near a bubbling creek, vine maples draped with moss surrounding her, and Sam knelt with his head across her lap, a truly majestic creature in full submission. Dean thought this should be relevant to him somehow, like something he'd seen in a book, but he couldn't quite place it.

She began to reach for something next to her, pulling out a handsaw and resting the blade on Sam's horn near the base. Sam didn't move, though fear filled his eyes.

“Hold it right there,” Dean said, hefting his gun to show that he meant business.

Emma looked up, setting the saw aside but making no move to stand, “What do you want?”

“You can't cut off the horn.”

“And who are you, the unicorn-preservation society?”

“I'm...” Dean realized he'd have to change tactics, “I'm his big brother. You of all people should understand wanting to protect your younger sibling.”

“So you know about Ash?” she said, and then to Sam, “Rise.”

Sam obeyed.

“Be ready to protect me.”

Sam lowered his horn defensively and began approaching Dean.

“How are you controlling him? Does it have to do with the dagger?”

“No, nothing like that... and yet it's simple: unicorns serve virgins.”

Now it made sense! Dean recalled that from the lore, but he had dismissed it initially as medieval superstitious nonsense, that was what had struck him when he'd arrived, “Oh, right!”

_I wouldn't have listened to you anyway, not that you've been a virgin for many, many years,_ Sam remarked, shaking off her control as Emma was distracted.

“Hahah, real funny horse-boy.”

“You can hear him?” Emma asked.

“I can, and you need to listen to me,” Dean put the gun down, “I think we can both benefit. You see, I was sick the other day with a bad cough...”

_More like pneumonia._

“And Sammy here healed me. I honestly can't say for sure, but I think he might be able to fix Ashley up without losing any body parts.”

“I don't know, the internet said...”

“And the internet is always right? Listen, it worked for us. Can we try it on her before doing anything drastic? He's my brother.”

She looked at Dean, sizing up what he was saying. It didn't seem like he was trying to trick her. “Okay, fine,” Emma said.

“Good, I'll drive us there and Sam can meet us at the hospital, it's dark so we should be able to get there unnoticed.”

“Uh... there might be a problem.”

“What?”

“Did you park in the same place as before?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I might have laid out some nails and stuff and your tires might be flat.”

“Shit.” Dean rushed back to the car, Sam and Emma following. Sure enough the front right tire was flat, as was the rear left, “Son of a bitch.”

“You swear a lot,” Emma remarked.

“Some people bring it out more than others,” he sighed, “Now what? I don't think we can both fit on your bike.”

“You can ride Sam.”

_Aw Hell no._

“Sam, bend down and give your brother a ride,” Sam was clearly fighting the command, but she was getting the best of him and reluctantly Sam bowed his head and bent forward to accept a rider.

Dean didn't see any other option, it would take them all night to walk there and Emma was not entirely convinced yet. If she didn't get home soon her mother would probably get worried and call the police and... well, their choices were pretty limited right now. He climbed onto Sam's back and held on tight.

_If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone..._

“Yeah, don't worry, I'm not adding this to our greatest hits either.”

“Ready?” Emma asked, pulling on a knapsack and climbing onto her bike.

“Let's get this over with,” said Dean. Sam began trotting, and then picked up speed, leaving the park at a full gallop.

Dean had to admit, it was kind of awesome. The soft night wind typical of seaside towns was in his hair and he didn't even need to think about steering, Sam seemed to know where he was going. The horn kind of enhanced it actually, if he didn't think too hard he could imagine himself as the hero in some fantasy epic, riding in to save a young princess on his majestic unicorn.

  
  


\- - -

  
  


“Ash?” Emma whispered to her sister. The curtains were drawn around Ashley's bed but the other patients were still in the room, monitors beeping steadily.

“Em?” she shifted, cracking an eye open, “It's so late, what are you doing here?

“I have something to show you, you need to come out to the garden.”

“I'm not supposed to without a nurse.”

“We can't, this has to be secret, we can sneak out, like ninjas.”

“We'll get in trouble.”

“There's a unicorn there.”

“Really?” Ashley's eyes widened and she sat up, rushing to get out of bed.

“Slow down kiddo, I'll get your chair...” Emma pushed the wheelchair to where Ashley could easily get into it, unhooking her IV line from the bed and reattaching it to the chair. She removed the heart-rate monitor attached to Ashley's finger and unplugged the machine before it could beep in alarm.

They crept outside to the garden. Behind a stand of bare trees was a stone bench facing a statue of the virgin Mary backed by old rhododendrons, her hands open as if offering an embrace, her expression placid in white plaster. Emma wheeled Ashley next to the bench, where Dean was waiting, and then from the trees emerged Sam, hot from his run, the muscles in his flanks still twitching.

“No way!” Ashley cried, her voice almost reaching a squeal.

“Shh!” Emma hushed, “We need to be quiet. This is Sam.”

Sam inclined his massive head, _Pleased to meet you._

“He talks!” Ashley could hardly contain herself.

“Not everyone can hear him, but we can. He's going to help you,” Emma explained.

_I'm going to try,_ said Sam,  _I don't know if it'll hurt, but if it does you need to hold still, okay?_

“I will,” Ashley was determined. Sam knelt, resting the tip of his horn on her chest. It began to glow. This was harder for him, with Dean he'd known the disease was in his chest, in this case it was her blood and bone marrow, a defect that through her entire body. Emma felt the warmth, but it was not uncomfortable, just strange. This time it took Sam longer, he could feel his power waning but he persisted, giving it the whole of his effort.

At last he had given all he could but she looked better to him, her energy felt purer, clean. He drew back, the horn ceasing to glow.

“Did it work?” asked Emma.

“I feel better than before,” Ashley offered.

_She's good,_ said Sam, and then he collapsed forward. 

“Sammy!” Dean caught his brother's head and lowered him down slowly to the ground, checking the unicorn's pulse. Then the creature began to glow, and he scampered back on the ground to avoid the blinding light. Once he could see again without red spots in his vision there was not a unicorn where his brother was but Sam himself, naked and lying on his belly. Dean quickly removed his jacket and laid it over Sam, not wanting to expose young girls to that, and then felt for his pulse. It was weak but present and he sighed in relief.

“Is he okay?” Ashley asked.

“Yeah, he's fine.”

“Let's get you back in before Mindy catches us,” Emma said, moving to grab the handles on the wheelchair.

“Hold on kid,” said Dean, “you aren't walking off with that dagger.”

“Oh! Of course,” Emma said, stopping to take off her backpack and hand Dean the scarf wrapped bundle.

Dean opened it up to make sure it was still inside, finding the dagger broken but both pieces there, “Huh.”

“The vendor said I'd only get three uses out of it,” Emma said, “But you didn't need to know that earlier.”

Dean rolled his eyes, of course this girl had shown him up again. She was responsible for the deaths of two people, but it had been desperation that had driven her, the need to save her little sister, and Dean was inclined to forgive, though he was not really in any position to grant forgiveness, because he probably would have done the same thing in her shoes for Sam.

“And hey,” she said, turning around as she wheeled her sister away, “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid.”

The sisters went back inside and Dean was left alone in a rain-soaked garden with the blessed mother smiling serenely over his butt-naked gigantor brother who had been a unicorn up until a few minutes ago. He was glad Sam was back to normal because seriously... a unicorn? Dean had so much blackmail material...

 

 


End file.
